The Grand Budapest Hotel Page #6

EXT. FRONT ENTRANCE. MORNING

Zero races up the steps into the hotel carrying thestack of newspapers.

25.

INT. LOBBY. MORNING

Zero dashes past Reception carrying the stack of

newspapers.

INT. ROTUNDA. MORNING

Zero mounts the staircase three steps at a time carryingthe stack of newspapers.

INT. CORRIDOR. MORNING

Zero speed-walks to the end of the hallway and stops infront of a door labelled PRINCE HEINRICH SUITE. A signon the knob reads: Do Not Disturb. Zero hesitates, thenknocks. Pause. The door opens a crack and an irritated

M. Gustave in a purple, silk dressing gown looks out.

M. GUSTAVE

What do you want?

ZERO:

(a frantic whisper)

Look.

Zero holds up the stack of newspapers. M. Gustave picksone off the top and studies it.

INSERT:

The front page of the Trans-Alpine Yodel. The headline

is, “Will There Be War? Tanks at Frontier” -- but acolumn below the fold reads:

Dowager Countess Found Dead in Boudoir

A photograph shows Madame D’s corpse flat on her back ona white carpet.

As M. Gustave reads the article, he says gravely:

M. GUSTAVE

Dear God.

ZERO:

(sadly)

I’m terribly sorry, sir.

M. GUSTAVE

(melodramatic but pained)

We must go to her.

ZERO:

(hesitates)

We must?

26.

M. GUSTAVE

Tout de suite. She needs me -- and I need

you:
to help me with my bags and so on.

An old woman’s voice calls from the next room,

coquettish:

FRENCH LADY (O.S.)

Tout va bien, ma cherie?

M. GUSTAVE

(sharply)

Attendez-moi, darling.

(to Zero:
)

How fast can you pack?

ZERO:

(short pause)

Five minutes.

M. GUSTAVE

Do it -- and bring a bottle of thePouilly-Jouv. ‘26 in an ice-bucket with

two glasses so we don’t have to drink thecat-piss they serve in the dining car.

ZERO:

Yes, sir.

M. Gustave slams the door, and Zero dashes away down thecorridor.

INT. TRAIN COMPARTMENT. DAY

A first-class state-room on the express to Lutz. Thesnowy foot-hills of the Zubrowkian Alps whiz by outside.

M. Gustave and Zero each hold a glass of chilled whitewine. There are tears in M. Gustave’s eyes.

M. GUSTAVE

I blame myself.

M. Gustave checks the color of the wine in the light. Itis excellent.

M. GUSTAVE

She tried to tell me she had a

premonition. I didn’t listen.

(imagining the scene)

All of Lutz will be dressed in black --

except her own ghastly, deceitfulchildren whom she loathed and couldn’t

bear to kiss hello. They’ll be dancinglike gypsies.

27.

Zero nods soberly. M. Gustave becomes philosophical/

nihilistic:

M. GUSTAVE

There’s really no point in doing anythingin life, because it’s all over in theblink of an eye -- and, the next thingyou know, rigor mortis sets in. Oh, howthe good die young! With any luck, she’sleft a few Klubecks for your old friend -(

motioning to himself)

-- but one never knows until the ink is

dry on the death certificate. She wasdynamite in the sack, by the way.

ZERO:

(scandalized in spite of himself)

She was eighty-four, M. Gustave!

M. GUSTAVE

(pause)

I’ve had older.

M. Gustave throws back the rest of his glass and refillsit as he expands on the point:

M. GUSTAVE

When you’re young, it’s all filet-steak,

but as the years go by, you have to moveon to the cheaper cuts -- which is finewith me, because I like those. More

flavorful, or so they say.

(shrugs)

Why are we stopping at a barley field?

The train has, in fact, come to a halt in the middle ofnowhere. Noises echo from the other end of the coach: a

door slams open; loud voices argue; heavy footstepsapproach.

Three soldiers appear in the compartment doorway. Theyare stocky, thick-necked, and armed with carbine rifles.

They wear grey uniforms and long coats. M. Gustave sayswith an air of fancy-meeting-you-here:

M. GUSTAVE

Well, hello there, chaps.

SOLDIER #1

(blankly)

Documents, please.

M. GUSTAVE

With pleasure.

28.

M. Gustave withdraws his passport from his coat pocketand presents it to the soldier. The soldier begins toflip through it. M. Gustave gestures toward thephotograph of himself:

M. GUSTAVE

It’s not a very flattering portrait, I’mafraid. I was once considered a greatbeauty.

The soldier ignores this comment. M. Gustave peers atthe breast-pocket of his uniform.

INSERT:

A name tag pinned below a military badge. It reads: Cpl.

F. M.ller.

M. Gustave raises an eyebrow and asks pointedly:

M. GUSTAVE

What’s the “F” stand for? Fritz? Franz.

SOLDIER #1

(hesitates)

Franz.

M. GUSTAVE

(exceedingly pleased)

I knew it!

The soldier returns the passport to M. Gustave and looksto Zero. Zero nervously hands him a creased and tatteredlittle scrap of paper covered with stamps and seals. Thesoldier frowns and studies it. M. Gustave smiles,

uneasy, and says lightly:

M. GUSTAVE

He’s making a funny face.

(to the soldier)

That’s a Migratory Visa with Stage ThreeWorker Status, Franz, darling. He’s with

me.

The soldier shows the scrap of paper to his associates.

They confer rapidly at a whisper. There is some debate.

Finally, the soldier waves for Zero to follow him:

SOLDIER #1

Come outside, please.

Zero swallows hard and begins to rise -- but M. Gustavemotions sharply for him to stop. He says, a bit stern:

29.

M. GUSTAVE

Now wait a minute.

(to Zero)

Sit Down, Zero.

(to the soldiers)

His papers are in order. I cross-

referenced them myself with the Bureau ofLabor and Servitude. You can’t arrest him

simply because he’s a bloody immigrant.

He hasn’t done anything wrong.

The soldier hesitates. He turns to his associates again.

They look back at him, expressionless. The soldier grabsZero by the arm and jerks him out of his seat. M.

Gustave is instantly on his feet, tussling.

M. GUSTAVE

Stop it! Stop, damn you!

ZERO:

(in disbelief)

Never mind, M. Gustave! Let them proceed!

M. Gustave is slammed and held against one wall whileZero is pounded into another. M. Gustave shouts andstruggles.

M. GUSTAVE

What are you doing? That hurts!

In two seconds:
both M. Gustave and Zero are locked in

hand-cuffs with their arms behind their backs. At this

point, M. Gustave explodes:

M. GUSTAVE

You filthy, goddamn, pock-marked, fascistassholes!

(in a pure rage:
)

Take your hands off my Lobby Boy!

M. Gustave and Zero lock eyes across the fracas. In aninstant: they are brothers. A new voice shouts from theend of the corridor:

HENCKELS (O.S.)

What’s the problem?

All the soldiers snap to attention as a young officerappears in the doorway. He is well-groomed and clean-

shaven. He wears a dress-grey uniform with a cape. He isHenckels. The first soldier hands him the scrap of paperand starts to explain the situation -- but M. Gustaveinterrupts calmly with blood trickling from his nose:

30.

M. GUSTAVE

This is outrageous. The young man worksfor me at the Grand Budapest Hotel inNebelsbad.

Henckels turns suddenly to M. Gustave. He stares. Hesays in a quiet voice:

HENCKELS:

M. Gustave?

M. Gustave looks at Henckels, curious. He nods slowly.

HENCKELS:

My name is Henckels. I’m the son of Dr.

and Mrs. Wolfgang Henckels-Bergersd.rfer.

Do you remember me?

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